


Fandom Bicycle, Case 2: Yakov Feltsman

by ineptshieldmaid



Series: Christophe Giacometti, Fandom Bicycle [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, background yuri/viktor and yurio/otabek, wedding fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 18:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10599867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineptshieldmaid/pseuds/ineptshieldmaid
Summary: Chris enjoys weddings, on the whole. Like the guy inPirates of the Caribbeansaid, drinks all round! They’re a bit... sometimes they’re a bit much, that’s all. People at weddings tend to forget that marriage in general, and blissful monogamous unions in particular, are not necessarily a goal shared by everyone in the room.---(Series: tumblr prompt challenge-to-self, an attempt to test just how many characters can be paired with Chris Giacometti)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [niyalune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niyalune/gifts).



> Hypothesis: Christophe Giacometti is the fandom bicycle, there is no character that cannot be paired or triaded with him.
> 
> Experiment: tumblr prompt requests
> 
> Results: 5/6
> 
> Ficlets going up separately because they all warrant separate ratings / tags. 
> 
> This one comes in two parts: firstly, the Chris/Yakov chapter, courtesy of Niyalune. 
> 
> Second chapter features the one character I couldn't manage to pair with Chris: Nikolai Plisetsky. I'm sure *someone* could, but what my brain turned up was this instead.

How it happens is like this:

Chris enjoys weddings, on the whole. Like the guy in _Pirates of the Caribbean_ said, drinks all round! They’re a bit... sometimes they’re a bit much, that’s all. People at weddings tend to forget that marriage in general, and blissful monogamous unions in particular, are not necessarily a goal shared by everyone in the room.

Sometimes Chris deals with this by being the life of the party. The last wedding he was at, he hit on all of the bridesmaids and all of the groomsmen in succession, and got a surprising number of positive responses. This wedding has Yuri Plisetsky as groomsman, though, and Chris would like to keep his nose in its current un-punched state. So he doesn’t take that tactic. Sometimes he charms the happy couple’s extended families, but Viktor doesn’t have an extended family, and Yuri’s relatives don’t speak much English.

So Chris ends up at Wedding Survival Strategy Number Three: drinking whisky with the recently-divorced. Recently, in the case of weddings, means any time in the past five years, and it’s been considerably less than five for Yakov Feltsman. Not that they talk about that, of course. They talk about Viktor, and how nice it is to see him happy. They talk carefully around the fact that they both know combining competition and marriage is a disastrous recipe. ‘If anyone can do it, it’s Viktor!’ they say, and they almost believe it.

‘Katsuki’s good for him,’ Feltsman says, and Chris has to agree with that. However dubious Viktor’s career choices are, Chris can’t fault his choice of partner.

‘He dated women before, you know,’ Feltsman says.

‘Who, Yuri?’ As far as Chris knows, Yuri hadn’t dated anyone before Viktor, but maybe Feltsman has inside gossip.

‘Viktor,’ Feltsman says. He doesn’t look at Chris, just stares into his glass. ‘There was an opera singer...’

‘There were men, too,’ Chris says, not quite sure where Feltsman is going with this.

‘Yes, I know. You, for one,’ Feltsman says. ‘I heard all about that.’

Of course he did. Well. Feltsman had been Viktor’s coach: even the most private people tend to spill things to their coaches, it’s just the nature of the job.

‘I just wonder,’ Feltsman says, still to his half-drunk glass of whisky, ‘what if he hadn’t?’

Chris is really not following this line of logic, and is slightly worried about where it’s going to end. ‘Hadn’t what?’

‘Look at them.’ Feltsman gestures toward the top table, where Viktor seems to be feeding Yuri some sort of dessert by hand. ‘He’s not going to have eyes for anyone else for... years. If ever.’

‘Yeah, that seems to be the situation,’ Chris says. People Magazine’s ‘Most Disgustingly Monogamous Couple Of the Year’, that’s Viktor and Yuri.

‘I remember what that was like,’ Feltsman says. He downs the rest of his whisky in one too-fast gulp. ‘At least if this all goes to shit, Viktor has... something else to fall back on. He’ll remember there are other people. Other ways it could’ve gone.’

‘Mmm,’ Chris says, because he really doesn’t think Viktor would take his hypothetical future marriage breakdown so well. But Feltsman’s not really talking about Viktor, is he?

A few moments, and then it comes out.

‘I used to think... I used to find men attractive, Christophe. When I was young. But I was never... I never had time, or perhaps it was that young men didn’t find me attractive. And then I met Lillia, and she...’ Feltsman picks up his glass again, realises it’s empty, and puts it back down again. ‘She really was the only one in the world for me, for so many years.’

Chris tries, for about three seconds, to imagine being so in love with someone you forget anyone else exists. As always, the thought experiment fails, but he knows it does happen.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. He’s gotten good at talking to disillusioned monogamists at weddings, it’s sort of his special talent. That and coming untouched.

‘I need another drink,’ Feltsman says, and Chris puts out a hand to stop him getting up.

‘Let me,’ he says. Partly so he can make sure there’s only a single standard shot in Feltsman’s second glass, but mostly because he really does want to make the gesture.

When he comes back, drinks in hand, he has a good view of Feltsman’s profile. Feltsman’s watching Viktor and Yuri, and whatever mixed feelings he has, they don’t show on his face. He looks like Chris feels: like the wedding experience is weird, but worth it, for the chance to bask in the reflected abundance of Viktor and Yuri’s happiness.

‘Mr Feltsman,’ Chris says, an idea forming.

‘Yakov, please.’ Feltsman looks up, and takes the glass Chris holds out. He puts it down on the table instead of knocking it back immediately, which is a good sign.

‘Dance with me?’


	2. Coda: (not) Nikolai Plisetsky

What happens in this case is this:

Viktor and Yuri insist on throwing Plisetsky an eighteenth birthday party. The kid’s birthday falls in between the Four Continents and Worlds, and it’s Olympic qualifying year so everyone’s half out of their minds, but Viktor and Yuri throw a party. They invite what seems to be 90% of the figure skating world, and, strangely, most of those people turn up. So do Yuri Katsuki’s family, who evidently regard Plisetsky as their de facto son, or possibly their embarrassing cousin.

Chris goes, not because he’s particularly close to Plisetsky, but because Viktor’s trademark total lack of restraint guarantees a great party. And it is a great party. Chris spends some of it dancing with Katsuki (who is disappointingly sober; but then, so is Chris. Training has all of them under its thumb), and some of it talking to various people he hopes to outdo on the ice in less than a month, and some of it in a corner, drinking vodka with Yakov Feltsman.

The drinking with Yakov thing isn’t going anywhere, they both know that, but Chris has no regrets about the way Viktor’s wedding turned out for him. As far as he knows, Feltsman has none, either.

They lean up against a wall and watch Plisetsky do shots with Altin. Beside them, Viktor and Yuri are cooing at each other. Chris wonders how many people fail to notice Plisetsky and Altin’s relationship simply because they’re always tucked in next to the Katsuki-Nikiforov PDA Spectacular.

‘Lilia says it’s a wonder he made it to eighteen without a breakdown,’ Yakov says, after a while.

‘Hmm?’

‘She says that _after_ she spends two years pushing him just as hard as I do,’ Yakov adds, glowering. ‘More so.’

Somehow, Yakov and Lilia have a perfectly functional working relationship while maintaining a deeply bitter personal one. Chris decides he’s not even going to comment.

‘I am surprised,’ says a voice from Chris’ other side. The accent is thick, even thicker than Yakov’s, but when Chris turns, he recognises the speaker. Nikolai Plisetski, Yuri’s grandfather. ‘A young man like you should be dancing!’ He gestures toward the far end of the room, where a dancefloor has indeed been cleared. Mila and Georgi are either dancing or fighting on it, it’s hard to tell. 

Nikolai shuffles his feet and snaps his fingers. ‘I am an old man and yet I am ready to dance!’

Chris can feel Yakov turning to him, probably to tell him to go and dance. A spirit of mischief, or possibly genius, seizes Chris instead.

‘He’s right, Yakov,’ Chris says. ‘A young man like you should be dancing.’

Nikolai’s eyes sparkle, evidently pleased with this turn of the tables. ‘Unless you are too shy?’ he asks, wiggling his hips a bit. ‘Scared, perhaps, of my great dancing moves!’

‘I,’ Yakov says, with great dignity, ‘am scared of no one’s dancing.’

‘Come then,’ Nikolai says, and tucks his elbow into Yakov’s. ‘We will dance.’

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, folks: I endeavour to tag widely but I cannot guarantee comprehensiveness. Caveat lector.  
> Also as usual: general politeness in comments is appreciated, and not being weirdly judgey about the sex life choices of fictional characters is greatly appreciated.


End file.
